Over the years Fifi and the boy have had some truly epic tantrums. In fact they’ve become so spectacular, I just tend to whip my phone out and start videoing them now. That soon shuts them up. But little Danger has excelled in purple faced clenched rage and beaten the pair of them to the role of tantrum meister 2013.
|A typical day at the office|
I came home the other night after a long day in the office doing sums. Danger was asleep in the middle of the sitting room floor, snoring with his bottom up in the air. Normal life was going on around him. The older two had finished their dinner in relative peace and quiet and had convinced wifey to take them to the shops to stock up on ice lollies. It was the commotion of getting ready to go out that woke Danger up. Initially he stumbled towards his Stokke Triptrap, intent on food and even manged to get stuck into his pasta and meatballs but the problems started when he realised other people were going out. Not out out, just out but it was enough to fill the little lad with incoherent rage.
First up was the back arching and the waving of the little tightly balled fists. When that didn’t achieve the desired goal of freedom, it was swiftly followed by more tears and the throwing of food and his drink. Again this didn’t achieve it’s desired goal and this lead him to up his game to a level that neither of his siblings have ever managed. Bereft of things to throw, and screaming blue murder, he scraped the remains of a half eaten meatball out of his mouth and hurled them at me. That’s hardcore. I don’t think anyone else has ever had such a rage on that they’ve chucked half chewed food out of their own mouth at me.
Damn, I wish I’d videoed it.